


Prince Incognito

by firesign10



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bullying, College, M/M, Royalty, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 23:50:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firesign10/pseuds/firesign10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is a dorky pre-law college student at Stanford. One guy is bullying him, and another might be trying to date him! Plus there's rumors all over the campus about a Prince who's attending incognito . . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2014 Livejournal Spn_reversebang. Thanks to the mods and the comm for hosting this great challenge!! Thanks to Terrorinyertub for the delightful sketch and prompt. Thanks to Roxymissrose for indefatigable support and feedback! Thanks to Tolakasa and Katstark for the wonderful beta work!

Sam Wesson stood in the middle of the Stanford campus and sighed with delight. All around him lay beautifully groomed green lawns, studded with groups of students and their families roving around. Various buildings punctuated the sprawling lawns, ranging in style from ornately classical to sleekly modern, and Sam couldn't wait to explore them, find out where his classes would be. Today was just for doing a little reconnaissance, though, and he had books to buy and an apartment to settle into. He sighed again, stretching his long arms in the California sunshine before turning to rejoin his companion, who was waiting patiently a few steps away.

His bodyguard, Benny Lafitte, was keeping a vigilant eye on Sam while also constantly scanning the area. Benny was Sam's friend as much as his employee, but he never failed to take his job of guarding Sam with anything less than deadly intent. Benny's stocky, muscular frame made him look intimidating at first, but his soft voice -- still resonating with a hint of his native Creole accent -- was warm and friendly . . . as long as there was no threat to Sam.

Sam knew that college was going to be a challenge for both of them; Benny had a new, complex environment to keep Sam safe in, and Sam himself had to do . . . . everything. Do well in his classes, try to have a social life, keep his real identity under wraps. He wasn't just another freshman glorying in the beautiful California weather and lovely surroundings; he wasn't just a tall, handsome young man with exotic eyes and a ready smile. In fact, he wasn't really Sam Wesson at all.

He was Samuel Henry Winchester, His Royal Highness of the House of Winchester, second son to His Majesty, John Winchester, king of Lawrencia.

\o/\o/\o/ \o/\o/\o/ \o/\o/\o/ \o/\o/\o/

Castiel Singer plodded along the gray concrete sidewalk, oblivious to his surroundings. An armload of books bowed his thin shoulders, the corners digging into his ribs. His black glasses were slowly sliding down his nose, but he couldn't free a hand to push them back up. His thick black hair stuck out messily in every direction.

"Heads up!" a voice cried out, and Castiel raised his head just in time to see a Frisbee headed at him. He dropped his books and fell to the grass, cringing as he anticipated the shock of the Frisbee crashing into him. Instead, it just sailed over his prone form, and he blew out a breath before sitting up and brushing bits of grass off his gray argyle sweater vest. His books were sprawled around him, and he frowned as he began to collect them. Stupid college boys, playing their stupid games all over the lawns. He ignored the pang in his chest at the thought of playing carefree games with good-looking boys who would call to him, "Hey, Cas! To you!" That was not the kind of thing that happened to him.

"Hey, are you okay? I am _so_ sorry," said a warm baritone voice, and Castiel whirled around in surprise. His eyes went up and up, because this boy apparently hadn't known when to stop growing. A mop of dark brown hair crowned the well-over-six-foot young man, and his foxy, blue-green eyes looked anxiously down at Castiel.

"I didn't see you coming, and then I'd already thrown it. I'm so glad it didn't hit you, but I'm sorry for making you hit the dirt like that." He stuffed some of Castiel's books back into his arms. "Oh wow, an LSAT study guide? Are you planning on law school? Me too! I mean, I'm only a freshman, but I'm going to go to law school. What year are you? You must be an upperclassman, if you're already planning for the LSAT?"

He beamed a big, white smile, framed by deep dimples, at Castiel, who was standing there somewhat dumbfounded.

"My name's Sam, Sam W -- Wesson. Freshman. Like I said already, I guess." His smile was blinding.

"Castiel, Castiel Singer. Yes, I'm a junior." Castiel found his tongue looser now that he'd gotten a few words out. "You guys are so irresponsible! There are other people on campus, you know, it wouldn't kill you to be a little more considerate! We can't all be tall and graceful and . . . and beautiful, you know!" he blurted.

Feeling completely flustered, he shook himself free of Sam's allure as well as his physical presence and hastily walked away. He totally ignored the fact he was walking in the wrong direction.

As he departed, he shot a quick look out of the corner of his eye and saw Sam still standing there, looking after him with a crestfallen expression.

\o/\o/\o/ \o/\o/\o/ \o/\o/\o/ \o/\o/\o/

As the next few weeks went by, Castiel found himself daydreaming of that encounter often. He told himself it was because Sam and his friends were so irritating, but deep inside he knew it was something more than that. He resolutely busied himself with his mounds of schoolwork, but it was hard to forget the handsome freshman.

As he walked between classes, Castiel overheard a number of conversations about a mysterious new student. Apparently, a prince of some minor European kingdom was attending the university incognito, and speculation was rife. Castiel briefly amused himself thinking of countless freshmen around campus who were being flirted with and catered to without any idea why.

Castiel's own social interactions had been characterized by awkwardness all his life. He kept to himself a great deal, and he had never dated. He wondered what flirting and dating would be like. As much as he pooh-poohed silly behavior of that nature, secretly he wished he knew what it felt like. Surely it must be pleasant, even enjoyable -- otherwise why would people engage in it so much? He sighed despondently. He was unlikely to ever find out for himself.

Classes hummed past. Days were filled with lectures, papers, studying. Castiel was determined to do well; his education was funded by scholarships and a college program for foster children, and he meant to make the most of it. His parents, Bobby and Ellen Singer, had fostered him when he was in fifth grade, and subsequently adopted him a couple of years later. Bobby was a gruff but kindly man, busy with his salvage shop and garage, but always free enough to coax a reluctant Castiel into the backyard to toss a baseball or football, and help him with history papers. Ellen was a no-nonsense woman who cooked up hearty meals for "her men," as she referred to them, and if she wasn't a big cookie-baker, well, she had a sharp, analytical mind and a sense of fairness that both grounded Castiel and pushed him to make the most of himself. They never seemed to mind his stilted words and stiff embraces, but simply hugged him and encouraged him in everything he did. He loved them very much, even if he found it hard to express that to them.

The only thorn in Castiel's side at the moment was Brady Roman. Brady was the smart-ass son of a rich business tycoon, Richard "Dick" Roman of Roman Enterprises, who apparently had no problem paying out enormous sums for tuition regardless of his son's academic failures. Brady was constantly on academic probation, yet never ceased his partying and carousing. He was a junior like Castiel, and Castiel had to put up with Brady's obnoxious presence in several classes. Brady had figured out that Castiel was a top student and frequently harassed him for notes, paper outlines, and study guides. Castiel always tried to put Brady off, but Brady ceaselessly pressured him, haranguing him and hounding him until Castiel would finally give in just to get some peace. 

When Brady wasn't after Castiel's notes, he was after Castiel's dignity. Brady had great fun teasing Castiel about his lack of a social life, his dearth of dates, and what a klutz he was. Brady's teasing and bullying made Castiel's awkwardness intensify ten-fold, until the young man could scarcely carry a book across the room without dropping it or stumbling, fighting back tears all the while. Castiel never considered saying anything to anyone about this; he knew Dick Roman was a very powerful man who contributed a lot of money to the university, and that Brady was unlikely to suffer any punishment for his actions, much less actually stop them. So Castiel gritted his teeth and tried to ignore Brady when he could, struggling to endure him when he couldn't be ignored.

Lately, Brady could be heard scoffing about the whole incognito-prince rumor.

"Of course there's no prince studying here anonymously! I would certainly be aware of him! There's no way someone of that social and monetary stature could be attending Stanford without my father knowing about it! It's just a ridiculous rumor!"

And off he went, chasing after another pretty girl or attending another party, trampling anyone in his path.

Castiel watched Brady go on about his business, coming as close to hate as he ever had, but also wondering -- what was it like, all the parties and the dating? How did it feel to have someone look at you, their face aglow because _you_ were there with them? What did it feel like to touch someone, your hand on their skin, the warmth of their hand on yours? He hugged and was hugged by his parents, but he could tell the difference between that and when Bobby and Ellen hugged each other. He could see the love between them, a type of love he was unfamiliar with, and he felt very lonely.

Sometimes at night, he had a different sort of uncomfortable feelings -- strong urges from deep inside himself that left his pajamas sticky and wrinkled the next morning. He scarcely even wanted to touch himself, but some of those long, solitary nights he couldn't help it; sliding his hand inside his pajama pants and gripping himself, stroking reluctantly until he couldn't hold back and gave in to his urges. His orgasms were furtive and joyless, despite the physical relief they briefly gave him.

\o/\o/\o/ \o/\o/\o/ \o/\o/\o/ \o/\o/\o/

Sam frequently caught sight of Castiel after their run-in; walking briskly along the sidewalks, arms full of books and heavy backpack hanging down. His hair was always sticking up in all directions, his black glasses askew, his shirt tail hanging out beneath his sweater vest. He seemed to ignore the rest of the students, remaining focused on his own path and simply avoiding anyone else. It made Sam's heart ache a little, how lonely the other man always looked.

He began to try and catch up with Castiel, but it was harder than it seemed. Castiel was usually too far away for Sam to catch him before he disappeared, leaving Sam gazing over the crowd in frustration. Benny got very annoyed about this as well, scolding Sam for running off before Benny could follow. Sam rolled his eyes, but knew he had to obey Benny in this; Sam's safety was Benny's job, and Sam even being allowed to attend Stanford like this had been contingent on his following Benny's direction. John, Sam's father and the King, would think nothing of ordering Sam to return home on the next plane, with Sam's things packed back up and shipped directly afterward. So Sam stopped trying to chase Castiel -- but not trying to meet him.

Sam (and Benny) went to the administration building, where Sam most charmingly asked for a copy of Castiel's schedule. Sam was going to ask for the location of his dorm room as well, but Benny had shaken his head, pointing out that was more "stalker" than "potential date". The administrator was initially reluctant to give out this information, but Sam batted his puppy-like eyes and smiled an extra shiny smile, and Benny made an oblique reference to royal concerns, and there was the paper in his hands.

Sam was doing well in all of his classes, so he didn't mind missing a couple in order to "run into" Castiel. He loitered in the hallway outside one of Castiel's classes, lingering near the door when it opened to release the class. There he was! Castiel's messy black hair made him easy to find, and Sam loped after him, Benny following close by.

"Hey, Castiel! Hey!" Sam called.

Castiel didn't seem to hear him at first, because he kept walking. Sam caught up to him, slowing to a walk to keep pace with the shorter man.

"Hey, Castiel, how are you? Remember me? Sam, you know, with the Frisbee?"

Sam looked at him anxiously. Did he really not remember him? Seeing that Sam was six foot four and reasonably handsome (he knew that without vanity), being forgotten wasn't something that happened to him very often.

Castiel stopped and looked at him, seeming to take in who Sam was finally. His eyes shone through the clunky glasses, and Sam thought what a beautiful combination bright blue eyes made with fair skin and black hair. Dorky sweater vest and messy hair aside, Castiel was really a good-looking guy, with high cheekbones set in a wide face and a soft-looking mouth.

"Um, yeah, yeah . . . I remember. You kept me from getting hit by the Frisbee. And I . . .uh, I got kinda cranky about it. Sorry."

Sam smiled happily. This was going swimmingly!

"No problem! I'm just glad you remembered me."

Castiel looked him up and down.

"Well, yeah. You are kinda . . . tall."

_Progress!_ Sam thought. _We're talking!_ He started walking slowly, this time guiding them to the exit that was closest to his favorite coffeeshop.

"Yeah, my parents were starting to wonder if I was ever gonna stop! My older brother is four years older but three inches shorter than me. Listen, why don't we go get some coffee and we can chat a bit, get to know each other? I'm new here, and I'd love to make a friend."

Castiel looked at him sharply, and Sam wondered at the caution he saw in his face.

"Me? Friends . . . with me?"

"Sure. Yeah. You. Is that a big deal or something?"

Castiel looked down, poking at some invisible point on the sidewalk with his toe. 

"No, not a big deal at all." He looked up, bright blue eyes staring right into Sam's. "That would be great."

They chatted pleasantly over coffee and pastry. Castiel relaxed enough to laugh a little when Sam was silly, and they found some common interests. Sam studied his new friend, noting the wide smile and how his eyes sparkled when he got excited about something. He also noted how twitchy Castiel was; any loud noise or sharp sound made him jump and look around nervously. He wondered what was up with that.

"So, Sam, can I ask something?"

Castiel was picking at a corner of his mini strudel, crumbling the pastry bits onto the plate, his eyes darting to Sam and away again.

"Sure, dude. If I can answer it, I will."

That was Sam's stock answer, because he would love to answer anything -- but he knew some things he couldn't, not without revealing his identity.

"What's with the guy following you?"

"What? What guy?" Sam tried to bluff it out, eyes wide and innocent.

Castiel gave him a pointed look. "I'm not stupid, you know. There's a guy following you all the time, and he's sitting two tables away having an espresso and a muffin. If he's stalking you, then he's doing a sucky job of it, so there must be another reason."

Sam looked over at Benny, who answered with the tiniest of head shakes. Sam sighed as he turned his gaze back to Castiel.

"This is the truth -- I just can't tell you all of it. Not . . . not right now, anyway. He's not stalking me. In fact I'm quite safe with him. And that's really all I can say right now. Can you trust me?"

Castiel's eyes moved over Sam, and it felt like a light caress. Castiel's expression was as unguarded as Sam had ever seen it, and it was like unwrapping a box to find a lovely gift inside.

"Yeah, Sam. I'll trust you."

Sam felt an unexpected rush of emotion at Castiel's declaration. He swallowed hard and extended his hand. "Thank, man. Thank you."

Castiel lay in bed that night, replaying the coffee date with Sam. Huh . . . _date_. That had been a date. Even with his inexperience, Castiel felt sure that the current flowing between Sam and him was more than one of friends. And shaking Sam's big hand, his own hand enveloped in it, well -- the skin-to-skin contact had been electrifying. Sam's skin had been so warm, his palm rubbing against Castiel's so stimulating, like electricity shooting up Castiel's arm.

Now it seemed to be running through his whole body, and he didn't even think about it as he pushed his pajama bottoms down and grabbed his cock. He played it all again; staring into Sam's now-blue, now-green eyes, his high cheekbones, that cupid's bow mouth moving as he laughed and talked. Those shoulders, that height, Jesus, that lush hair, long and tumbled down his neck. Those hands with their long elegant fingers, and the muscular forearms emerging from the rolled up cuffs of a soft green Henley.

Castiel gasped softly as he jerked himself hard and fast, feeling a sensitivity and urgency that was new to him. He heard himself whine as his orgasm spiraled up, then moaned loudly as he peaked, thick white fluid spilling over his fingers and groin. He gently squeezed himself a few more minutes as the aftershocks receded, panting in the dark while his heart slowed back down. He grabbed some tissues from his nightstand and wiped himself off, pulling his pajamas and blanket back up before he closed his eyes to sleep. His second-to-last thought was what a difference thinking of a real person made even to masturbating. 

His last thought was of Sam's changeable eyes.

He kept running into Sam after that, here and there around the campus. They went for coffee several times, and then they started to go for lunch, always finding a lot to talk about. Sam's wide smile and unabashed laugh made Castiel smile too, made his heart feel lighter, made it seem that there was more to his days than constant work and avoiding Brady Roman. Castiel didn't know if this was full-out dating, but he thought it certainly was close. Even as winter advanced and the days grew colder and darker, Castiel's world . . . was brighter.

Castiel was so wrapped up in spending time with Sam that he'd lost track of the whole rumor about a prince on campus. As he waited in the student union to meet Sam, he overheard a nearby conversation between two girls who were deep in speculation about the unknown prince. 

"I heard he is really, really handsome, and really athletic too. I started looking at the whole football team, but nobody there seems foreign. Maybe when the basketball team starts --" one of the girls said, her long hair in a pony-tail that hung down her back.

The other chimed in eagerly, "It would be _so_ exciting to meet him! Just think, some lucky girl on campus could be the next Queen! Maybe that's why he's here, to find a bride. You know, like in _Coming to America_!" Her face fell and her teased ringlets shook in dismay. "What if he's _black_? My dad won't let me marry a black guy, even if he _is_ a prince!"

The first girl scoffed. "I don't care if he's black and blue, or even rainbow! He's a _prince_! Besides, your dad is a stupid racist."

"Yeah, yeah he is. A redneck stupid racist. How on earth did he even get _in_ to Stanford before? I got in because he's an alumnus." She sighed heavily.

"Because he's a _rich_ redneck racist. Don't think Stanford turns down good hard cash! Look at Brady Roman -- he'd _never_ be here if his daddy wasn't Dick Roman!"

Both girls dissolved into giggles.

" _Dick_ Roman! How does anyone look him in the eye? 'Hi, _Dick_ , how ya doing?'" the first girl cackled.

Her friend shook her head, her laughter dying down. "I heard that Sheila saw him when he came to dedicate the new dorm wing, and he was _scary_! Like, he seemed super-nice and was wearing a gorgeous suit, but she said his eyes were like a _shark's_! Black and soulless! She said his smile was all teeth, and he looked like he would _eat_ you as soon as look at you! No wonder Brady is such an arrogant asshole!"

Castiel kept his eyes glued to his book, but his ears were listening furiously. It was interesting to hear some scoop about the supposed prince as well as his own nemesis, Brady. Maybe it had been all the time he was spending with Sam, but he hadn't seen much of Brady lately. Perhaps he'd found some unlucky, new target to torment. Knock on wood . . .

Sam arrived in a flurry of legs and floppy hair, and Castiel promptly forgot about minor annoyances like Brady Roman and concentrated on his funny, warm, and lovely friend. He really didn't even notice Benny anymore, sitting his usual two tables away.

\o/\o/\o/ \o/\o/\o/ \o/\o/\o/ \o/\o/\o/

Sam looked at Castiel and wondered if it was okay to say "boyfriend". They hadn't even kissed yet, but their time together was now the high point of Sam's day. He'd watched as Castiel relaxed more and more around him, started to smile and laugh, to joke and keep his big blue eyes on Sam to see if Sam got it. Oh yeah, Sam got it all right. Sam had gotten it bad.

He came out of his momentary reverie to see those eyes on him now. Castiel was looking at him with a concerned expression on his face.

"Are you okay, Sam? Do you feel all right?" he inquired anxiously.

Sam nodded, searching for the right words.

"I'm fine, Cas. It's just that there's something -- something I want to say, and I'm not sure how to say it.

Castiel's expression went blank as his eyes lowered. He sat up straighter, pulling away from Sam as he did so.

"Of course, Sam." His voice was cool.

Sam looked at him with surprise.

"Cas, what is it? Are you worried about what I want to say? It's nothing bad, I promise. Well, I don't think it's bad, but I guess it's up to you." He reached out and out his hand over Castiel's. "It's okay, dude, it's okay."

Castiel took a deep breath and faced Sam.

"Go ahead."

Sam smiled at him affectionately. 

"I guess I don't even know if this is your thing or not, but I want to ask if you'd go out with me. Exclusively. Like . . . as my boyfriend."

Castiel looked shocked, his jaw dropping and his eyes going wide.

"I don't really know if you're gay or bi or whatnot, but I get the feeling that you like me, and more than just a friend. So if you're not gay, then forget I said this, but if you think you'd like to -- " Sam's words wound down as he waited a bit nervously for Castiel's answer.

Castiel's face lit up and he launched himself at Sam, knocking books off the table en route.

"YES! Yes, Sam, I would like that very, very much!" Castiel babbled. He wrapped his arms around Sam and hugged him tightly, burying his face in Sam's shoulder. Sam laughed and hugged him back, kissing the messy black hair that was all he could see of his boyfriend. He reached in and pried Castiel's face out to find it pink and shiny with tears.

"Hey, hey, what's that? Are you okay? We don't have to do this if you don't --"

"No! No! It's wonderful! I'm just -- I'm really happy and a little overwhelmed. Why does someone like you want to go out with someone like me? You're so tall and handsome and popular and tall and --"

Sam shook his head, stroking Castiel's damp cheek as he shushed him.

"You're pretty wonderful too, Cas. This isn't some kind of pity thing, this is an I-really-like-you thing. Smart you, funny you, sweet you. So hush up."

Castiel wiped his eyes with his sleeve and gave a little laugh. 

"Okay."

His eyes kept moving over Sam's face, as if waiting to see whether it was a trick after all. Sam kissed his nose and hesitated there, his face so close to Castiel's that their breath mingled. He bent his head a little more and gently pressed his lips against Castiel's soft mouth. For a moment there was no response, and he was just about to pull away when suddenly Castiel's mouth moved under his and pressed back. Sam cupped his hand behind Castiel's head and kissed him more firmly, relishing the feel of the other man's lips against his. He pulled back for a moment, checking that Castiel was really okay with this, and got an eyeful of a blissed-out Castiel.

". . .more?" Castiel mumbled.

Sam chuckled.

"All you want, baby. These lips belong to you now."

They kissed again, oblivious to the other people sitting and walking around them. Sam licked softly against Castiel's mouth, and when it opened under his, their tongues slid together in a mixture of passion and sweetness. This time Sam broke the kiss before things escalated, because he could already feel his heart speeding up and his cock hardening. He urgently wanted to explore this new side of their relationship, but not in the middle of the student union food court. Or in front of Benny. Even bodyguards had to allow a _little_ privacy to their charges.

\o/\o/\o/ \o/\o/\o/ \o/\o/\o/ \o/\o/\o/

Castiel walked back to his dorm in a daze. Sam liked him. _Sam_ liked him. _Him!_ He wondered if he should go buy a lottery ticket, if this kind of luck was going to go on.

Five minutes later, all the luck ran out.

Someone blocked Castiel's path, shoving at him and pushing him off the sidewalk. Castiel grunted as he barely kept from falling, then looked to see who the asshole was. 

Brady.

Brady Roman, all sneering mouth and hate-filled eyes, ready to harass his favorite target. Castiel tried to keep from cringing, but the way Brady's torment had been escalating and becoming ever more physical lately, Castiel had to admit he was afraid. What if this time it wasn't words, but blows? What could Castiel do against that kind of violence? He felt he didn't have any recourse with the school, since Brady's father was Dick Roman, a man of endless funds and a rumored lack of scruples. Castiel began to shiver, and it wasn't just from the early winter chill in the air.

"So, Cas, what the hell was _that_ little display in the student union about? Now, on top of being a dork and a nerd, you're a _queer?_ Is that what you are, Cas, a stinkin' faggot? You and the shaggy sasquatch there? What _I_ wanna know is, who's taking it up the ass, you or him?"

He pushed at Castiel again, a shove hard enough to rock him back a couple of steps.

"You're disgusting, you know that? You don't belong at a fine school like this, among decent people. You need to get the hell out of here, you little asshole, and go find some scummy school that _likes_ faggots! Someplace far away from here!" 

Brady's voice continually rose as he spoke, and by the last couple of sentences, he was punctuating his words with more shoves, pushing Castiel further and further off the pavement and onto the grass. Castiel tried to block his arm, twist away, but Brady was faster and stronger. Castiel briefly thought that he'd probably had a lot of practice in pushing people around like this, but then he had to pay attention so he wouldn't get knocked down. He didn't want to think about what would happen to him at Brady's hands -- or feet -- once he was on the ground.

More curses and slurs fell from Brady's lips as Castiel frantically tried to fend him off. He was breathing fast now, and his books had all been knocked onto the ground. His foot struck a rock and he felt himself start to fall when a strong hand grabbed his arm and hoisted him back up. Castiel gasped a "thank you" as he looked up to see . . . Sam! Sam stood next to him, one hand firmly supporting Castiel as the other ran angrily through his long hair. His beautiful eyes were snapping now, glaring furiously at Brady.

"What the fuck are you doing, you douchebag? What the hell was that? You just go around pushing people around like this? What kind of total asshole are you?" Sam yelled.

He stopped talking, fighting to control his breathing, and Castiel could see his jaw muscles clenching and unclenching. He turned to Castiel and hugged him hard, then held him away by the shoulders and looked him over.

"Are you okay, Cas? Did he hurt you?"

He brushed randomly at Castiel's sweater, studying him with anxious eyes.

"Yeah, I'm . . . I'm okay. He just pushed me, he didn't hit me or anything." Castiel drank in Sam's nearness; suddenly all the ugliness with Brady didn't even matter, not with his beautiful boyfriend standing next to him.

"I called him what he is, Wesson. A filthy fag. And so are you! You both should get the fuck out of here, you fucking perverts! We don't want you here!" He feinted like he was going to strike them, moving toward Castiel with a quick jump.

Sam extended his arm with his big fist at the ready, and then Brady was on the ground, hand pressed to his cheek, where Castiel could already see a bruise starting.

"You fuckers! You slimy degenerates! My father will have you kicked out of this school! You've messed with the wrong guy! Just you wait! Lousy ass-fuckers!"

Picking himself up, Brady screamed at them before he turned and ran off, still holding his wounded face.

Castiel sighed, relief flowing through him. He knew it wasn't over, but just having Brady gone for the moment felt wonderful.

"Do you, uh, fight like that often?" he asked Sam, who was investigating the state of his knuckles. They were red and a little scraped.

"Oh, no, not at all. But I've had self-defense classes all my life, and done some sparring and boxing. Even took karate for a few years, that was really fun. I think maybe you could use some pointers and a little sparring practice, huh? The point isn't really to hurt anyone, it's just to defend yourself if you need it."

His eyes kept roving over Castiel with concern. And . . . affection. A lot of affection. Affection that made Castiel feel tingly.

He nodded. Sam made a lot of sense there. It would be nice to think he'd never need knowledge like that to protect himself, but this encounter alone proved that that was not always the case.

"Yeah, that might be good. Not like I have can pop some wings out and fly away, right?" He smiled wryly at Sam, who grinned back at him.

"Nope! Benny can show you how, he gave me a lot of my coaching. And speaking of . . . "

Benny joined them, looking Sam over discreetly. 

"Are you all right . . . Sam?"

Sam clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm fine, Benny. Thanks for letting me take care of it. I think we need to teach Cas a little bit about self-defense, okay? But not right this minute."

"Of course. It didn't look like I needed to get involved -- you looked to be handling yourself just fine. Good work!"

Sam blushed at Benny's praise. Castiel went over to where his books were lying on the ground and gathered them up, brushing dirt and grass off them.

"Thank you . . . I didn't mean to be such a damsel in distress, but -- thank you!"

"Hey, you would do the same for me, dude. You just agreed to be my boyfriend, I wanna keep you around, you know?"

He winked, and Castiel couldn't help laughing. He made a decision on the spur of the moment.

"Listen, I was going to go visit my parents this weekend -- would you like to come with me? Is it too early to be meeting parents? We'd just go for a while, you know -- hang out, and have dinner. It's nothing fancy, but my mom's a really good cook."

"Is this the couple who adopted you?"

Castiel nodded, looking down for a moment before meeting Sam's eyes again.

"I never knew my birth parents. They left me at a hospital sanctuary. I was in a children's home for a while, and then a couple of different foster families until Bobby and Ellen took me in. I was so happy when they adopted me two years later. Just . . . knowing I had a real home, that I wasn't going to be floating around again . . . it was the best. They're really great."

Sam stroked his cheek and kissed him lightly. Castiel decided that he would never get tired of studying Sam's strong face or intriguing eyes.

"Yeah, Cas. I'd really like that."


	2. Chapter 2

The visit to the Singers went better than Castiel even expected. Sam hit it off right away with Bobby; the two of them talked and talked about all kinds of obscure historical texts and mythological tales. Ellen fussed over Sam, saying he needed to eat up and flesh out those long bones. She made a roast chicken, all golden and juicy, with glazed carrots, mashed potatoes, and home-made biscuits. After the meal, they relaxed and chatted with one of Bobby's favorite documentary shows on in the background. There was home-made pumpkin pie and apple crisp both for dessert, and Sam had some of each.

He and Castiel were not demonstrative with their feelings, deciding to keep things low-key for now, but they didn't fool anyone. After the desserts, Ellen addressed it head-on.

"Well, boys, I'm real glad you came out to visit tonight. Y'all need a good meal after all that cardboard cafeteria food. And while I appreciate your discretion, please don't harbor any illusions that the way you feel about each other isn't written all over your faces."

She smiled as they looked at her with astonishment. "You'll have to drive that buggy around the bend a few more times before something like that gets past me. Sam, Cas told me a long time ago how he felt about dating who, and it's never mattered to me and Bobby one iota. So just relax, okay? Unless -- how about _your_ family? Do they know you're gay? Is it going to be a problem?"

Sam sighed as he took Castiel's hand and gently squeezed it.

"My family doesn't know yet. I don't think there will be a problem -- there's precedent in family history. As it happens, my older brother is coming for a visit this week, and I thought I'd start with him. I was planning to tell him privately, talk it over with him and get his support to tell the family."

He looked at Ellen and then at Bobby, his gaze open and straightforward.

"I care a lot about Cas, and I'm not going to have him hurt. By anyone. That's my promise."

Castiel felt his eyes moistening and blinked hard. Sam's hand lay in his, hard bone and soft skin, long fingers that even now ran over his own in tiny caresses. So lucky -- how had he gotten so lucky?

Ellen and Bobby exchanged glances and smiles.

"Those are words to make any father happy, Sam," Bobby said gruffly.

\o/\o/\o/ \o/\o/\o/ \o/\o/\o/ \o/\o/\o/

When Monday rolled around, Castiel felt a fresh set of nerves kicking in. Sam's older brother Dean would be arriving today, and Sam was going to tell him about Castiel and that he was gay. Sam didn't seem too worried about it, but Castiel couldn't help fretting, wondering if it was going to go alright and if Dean was going to like him.

He reflected for a moment that Sam didn't talk much about his family. He sounded like he had a good relationship with them, judging by the way he referred to them, but Castiel didn't know any actual facts, like what his dad did for a job and so on. He sighed and shrugged. He was going to meet Dean today, and that was a start.

Deep in these thoughts, Castiel didn't notice someone approaching him. A young woman stopped him and spoke to him.

"Castiel? Castiel Singer? I'm Lisa Braeden, from the dean's Office. Dean Henriksen would like to see you at his office right away, please."

Castiel was surprised -- what on earth could the dean want with him? He looked curiously at the pretty girl, all big brown eyes and glossy black hair, and she smiled as she regarded him patiently.

"Of course, I'll come right now. Do you know what this is about?" he asked.

He fell into step with her as she guided him to the Administration building, and then upstairs to the Dean's office.

"I really can't say, Mr. Singer. I was simply told to bring you to Dean Henriksen."

Opening a dark wooden door, she ushered Castiel into a large office. He went through the door and stopped, immediately seeing the dean standing in front of his desk. He was a tall, well-built man, with handsome features and skin the color of dark chocolate. He beckoned Castiel to come farther in, extending his arm to shake Castiel's hand.

"Mr. Singer, I've called you in here because we seem to have a problem, and I want to resolve it ASAP. I must report that there has been a serious accusation made against you. You have been accused of starting a fight, of using vile slurs and name-calling, and generally behaving like some kind of hooligan. Now, I am not going to judge a case without hearing both sides, but understand right now that I will not permit this type of behavior on my campus. Is that clear?"

Castiel gaped at Henriksen. He was accused of fighting? _Him?_ It was all that little goon Brady's fault, it was _Brady_ who --

Who was standing right there near the dean's desk, looking like the cat that ate the canary. And next to him was his rich, sleazy father, Dick Roman, wearing an incredibly expensive suit and smiling like he was the Grand Marshall of the Rose Bowl Parade. Except when his eyes flicked over Castiel; then the smile turned into something dark and cold, and Castiel shivered.

Castiel was so upset that he couldn't even speak. Brady did not suffer the same problem, and he spoke heatedly to Henriksen.

"This is what happened, Dean Henriksen. I was walking to my two o'clock class when I saw Castiel across the lawn a few yards away. When he saw me, he appeared to get very angry, and he ran over to me and started yelling at me! He was swearing like a sailor, calling me names and saying horrible things! I couldn't believe it! i barely even know who he is, and this _attack_ out of the blue -- well, it just surprised the heck out of me! He actually scared me a little!"

Brady tried to look timid, but it came across more as arrogant to Castiel. Henriksen's expression remained impassive during Brady's rant, and now he turned his attention to Castiel.

"Now, Castiel. Your version of the events, if you please. Take your time. Everybody is going to be heard on this."

Castiel cleared his throat, feeling very nervous. It was hard enough to speak out about Brady, but with Brady's _father_ right there? He realized he had no choice, however, so he coughed and began.

"I was walking across the lawn by the science building with a friend, and then he left to go to his class. I continued on my way when I was accosted by Brady Roman. He called me . . . ugly names and mocked me, then began shoving me around. He knocked my books onto the grass. I was afraid he was about to start punching me when my friend came back and stopped him. If he had not returned, I'm not sure how far Brady would have gone. I was . . ." Castiel stopped and swallowed hard. "I was afraid for my safety."

Dick and Brady Roman snorted derisively in unison.

Henriksen held up a hand to them, glaring at both men. "I need to know Mr. Singer's actions _and_ his state of mind. There's no need to be disrespectful to him."

He turned back to Castiel with a serious expression. "I must tell you, Castiel, that this is not the first complaint in your file. There are a couple of other incidents, although much less severe in nature, that Brady has brought to my attention. To me, therefore, there is a pattern of behavior that is escalating, and this escalation concerns me. It concerns me very much."

Castiel was dumbfounded. Other incidents? What was Henriksen talking about? The only incidents he know about were when Brady had harassed _him!_ And Castiel had never told anyone about it, much less the Dean! This was crazy! His head felt like it was spinning.

"I didn't -- I never did anything to Brady! He's been the one bullying _me!_ And I never said anything about it because his family is so rich and powerful, and I didn't think anyone would believe me!"

He felt tears pricking his eyes and took some deep breaths to regain his composure. He'd be damned if he was going to cry in front of the Romans. He wasn't going to give Brady that satisfaction.

Henriksen looked thoughtful. He walked back and forth for a few minutes, tapping his finger on his chin as he mused. The Romans looked bored; Dick even checked his watch, like he had better places to be, as Brady thumbed at his cell phone.

Henriksen stopped his pacing, leaning against the front of his desk.

"Well, Castiel, since Brady has established a pattern here, I can't simply brush away his statement. However, I would be curious to speak with the friend you say was with you and get his observations as a third party. What is his name? I'll send Miss Braeden for him at once."

Castiel cringed at bringing Sam into this mess, but it didn't look like it could be helped. "Sam Wesson. He lives in D dorm, although he's probably in class now."

"Thank you. I'll have Lisa pull his schedule and we'll get him in here ASAP. In the meantime, I'm going to ask that all of you not leave this building, although you are free to leave my office. Please feel free to get some coffee or water, stretch your legs, or use the men's room in the lobby."

Lisa came back into Henriksen's office and ushered Castiel and the Romans out. Castiel left the dean's office entirely, moving quickly to the building's foyer where there were vending machines by the bathrooms. He got a bottle of water, gulping some quickly as he struggled to calm down. _This_ , he thought frustratedly, _this is why I never told! I knew it would be like this!_ He found an empty alcove under the stairs and slumped to the floor, burying his face in his arms.

Fifteen minutes later, his phone chirped as he received a text from Sam.

_Dude! What's going on? Why does the dean want me? R u ok?_

_Kind of. Not really. It's Brady. :-(_

Sam's response was a frowny face. _That dick. OMW_

Ten minutes later, Castiel heard his name called from the stairs. He got up and saw Lisa beckoning him.

"We're ready, Castiel. If you would please come back to the Dean's office with me?"

She smiled kindly at him, and Castiel smiled back weakly. His hands were sweaty, and he felt like his sweater was strangling him. His stomach was a knot, and he was having trouble staying focused.

When he re-entered Henriksen's office, Sam was already there. Standing next to him was another tall man, although not as tall as Sam. He had artfully mussed light brown hair, and when he turned to look at Castiel, Castiel saw he had vibrant green eyes. Lisa was blushing as she darted sideways looks at the strange man, who noticed and gave her a little smirk, until Sam discreetly elbowed him. Hard. The green-eyed man coughed.

"I'm Sam Wesson, and this is my older brother, Dean. He's just arrived for a visit. What is this all about?" Sam looked and sounded politely confused.

Henriksen shook both Sam's and Dean's hands. 

"Thank you for heeding my request so quickly, Mr. Wesson, especially with your brother visiting. We'll try to deal with this as quickly as possible and let you get back to your family time. Now, I've been told that you were present during a recent altercation between Castiel Singer and Brady Roman. Unfortunately, their stories conflict, which is where I'm hoping you can help. Could you please tell me what happened last Thursday afternoon, outside on the lawn? The rest of you, please do not interrupt while Sam is speaking."

Sam looked at Castiel with astonishment, and Castiel could see anger building in his boyfriend's face. Sam took a deep breath, then turned to face Henriksen and the Romans. Dean watched intently as Sam, standing very straight, began to speak in clear, clipped sentences.

"Last Thursday, I met up with Castiel Singer at the student union. We had coffee together. We left the union and walked across the lawn together toward our classes. I turned right to go to my class, leaving Cas to head over to his class. I turned back to look at him again and saw Brady Roman pushing him around on the sidewalk with increasing force. I ran back over and pushed Brady off Cas. Brady rushed at me and I put my fist out to block him. Brady ran into my fist with his face and fell down. He got up, threw some more insults at us, and ran away. I helped Cas pick his books back up from where they'd been knocked onto the ground. The end." He crossed his arms and looked hard at Henriksen. 

"I believe that you don't condone bullying behavior on your campus, Dean Henriksen, but you are looking at the wrong person. Castiel Singer is the target of the bullying, not the source. Brady Roman has been harassing him for weeks."

Brady burst out in anger, jabbing his hand at Castiel.

"That's a fucking lie! He's a fag, a goddamn cockroach, and he needs to be squashed like the pest he is!" 

Sam moved closer to Castiel, while Dean Wesson gaped at Brady's outburst. Dick Roman turned to his son and cuffed him sharply on the head, stopping Brady cold. The young man stood sullenly, rubbing his head where his father had struck him.

"Gentlemen, I am terribly sorry for my son's boorish outburst," Dick said smoothly. "Clearly he is under excessive stress and not in any way responsible for his actions. I'll make sure he takes a little break and gets some therapy."

"Of course, I'd be happy to . . . compensate Mr. Singer for any inconvenience. Then we can all put this unfortunate incident behind us." 

Dick Roman stopped and preened for a minute, smoothing non-existent wrinkles out of his expensive suit jacket. Clearly he thought his words had settled the whole matter. His eyes snapped sharply to Castiel and Sam before his attention returned to the dean. He smiled the slick smile of a snake oil salesman.

"I will say, Henriksen, that there are _other_ behaviors you should think about regulating on your campus. What Brady has not said, out of respect to his fellow students here, is that what triggered his anger that afternoon was the sight of these two young . . . _men_ openly kissing in the student union. They ignored any consideration for other students as well as the moral code that I'm confident you uphold here, instead making out like the dirty homos that they are. Frankly, sir, I want to know what kind of disciplinary action you plan for _them_ , rather than for my poor son, who was simply overwhelmed by the moral turpitude displayed before him."

Castiel covered his face with his hands. He didn't have a problem being outed -- he didn't really think of himself as "in" -- but Sam had just been unexpectedly outed to his brother. So much for their plan to discuss it privately with Dean. Dropping his hands, Castiel saw that Dean was in fact regarding Sam with a surprised look. Sam ignored Dean and simply stared impassively at Henriksen and Dick, his back straight and his jaw clenched. Castiel found the word _regal_ going through his mind.

"Dean Henriksen, there is nothing that Castiel and I did or have done that is in any way immoral. We are in love, but have not engaged in any kind of PDA that could be considered distasteful." Sam's voice was controlled, but growly at the same time.

Dick Roman scoffed loudly at this, crossing his arms and fixing an angry scowl on his face. He began to rant at Castiel and Sam. 

"I find that hard to believe, seeing as you're already moral degenerates! What kind of standards could you even have? Disgusting! Lowlifes, both of you!"

Roman turned his full attention to the Dean, speaking even louder and more forcefully. "Henriksen, I demand that there be some stringent measures taken here! My company -- indeed, my entire conglomerate -- has contributed substantial monies to this institution, and by God, I want to see some disciplinary action! If you hope to continue being a recipient of my largesse, you will kick these two cockroaches off your campus ASAP! I think there's been some early talk about an addition to the Business School in the next five years? Trust me, Henriksen, those funds will evaporate in a flash if I don't get satisfaction here!"

Dick's voice sharpened as he spoke until Castiel thought his words would physically cut him and Sam. It took all of his resolve to keep from flinching.

Sam glared at Brady, who was starting to cower in his father's shadow. He tried to return Sam's fixed stare, but wilted and turned his face away.

Henriksen looked around at all the parties in question, his thoughtful expression revealing little. A tense silence filled the room as they waited for his decision.

"Excuse me," Dean spoke suddenly. "I realize I am a visitor here -- I simply came to see my little brother, Sam. This is his first time living away from home, and I wanted to make sure he was doing alright, settling in here well. I'm rather appalled to find him embroiled in something so unfortunate as another student hurling accusations at him. Sam has always behaved a great deal of integrity, as befits his position."

Henriksen looked curiously at Dean, his ears practically perking up at Dean's statement. 

"And just what _is_ his position, Mr. Wesson?"

Dean looked stricken, turning to look apologetically at Sam. Sam sighed, shrugged, and nodded back at him. "It's okay. I was going to have to tell Cas soon anyway -- I don't want our relationship to be built on a lie. Go ahead, bro."

Castiel stared at Sam, fear running down his spine. What? Built on _what_ lie? His stomach started churning again, and he wrapped his arms around his middle, his eyes fixed on Sam. _Now_ what was happening?

Dean clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder, squeezing it and making him smile for a moment. "Sorry, dude. I know you wanted it on the down-low as long as possible, but we can still keep it just in this room, okay? No need for the rest of the campus to know anything for now."

Sam nodded. Henriksen raised his eyebrows as he tapped his fingers on his crossed arms. Dick and Brady were also intently focused as they watched Dean and Sam, waiting to find out what on earth Dean was talking about.

Dean turned to face them all and said, "I am the Crown Prince Dean Winchester, heir to the throne of Lawrencia. I present to you my younger brother, His Royal Highness, Prince Samuel Winchester, also of Lawrencia and currently residing here in America as Sam Wesson, Stanford freshman. Sam asked our father, the King, for permission to attend this American university, and to do so incognito, so that he could experience his college years as a normal student, as much as possible. Although somewhat reluctant at first, the King agreed. Sam is here with a bodyguard in attendance, but otherwise he is living as any other college student."

Castiel blurted out, "Benny!"

Sam laughed. "Yeah, Cas, Benny. That's why he's always around. It was the one stipulation my father wouldn't bend on, but Benny has worked hard to stay pretty unobtrusive."

Castiel was stunned. Sam -- his Sam -- was a prince! _The_ prince, the mystery one everyone had been buzzing about all semester. He felt like crying again. Sam had the world spread out before him -- he would never choose to be just with Castiel. Sam could have _anyone_ in the world. He'd just started getting used to Sam actually being in his life, and now . . .

His daze was broken by Henriksen's voice.

"Thank you, Your Highness, for your input on this matter. Welcome to Stanford, despite this contretemps. As for you, Sam, I'm pleased to know your true status. Rest assured that I will not treat you any differently from the other students, nor will I reveal your identity unless you wish me to. Clearly your choice is to have a normal collegiate experience, and I will afford you one as much as possible. That will include, of course, your obeying all the campus regulations as all the other students do."

He shook hands with both Sam and Dean, then turned to the Romans, eyeing Dick sternly and with disapproval.

"Mr. Roman, this university does not and will not tolerate homophobic behavior such as your son has exhibited. I _strongly_ suggest that Brady withdraw from this institution immediately and enroll somewhere far, far away. Dubai sounds good. If he does, I will seal this matter in his file. If not, then I will be forced to pursue disciplinary action of a highly visible and uncomplimentary nature. The visibility of this discipline will include a widely-published depiction of Roman Enterprises as being narrow-minded, homophobic, supporting a bully ethic, and riddled with favoritism." He paused. "Do you understand?"

He stared at the Romans. Even the normally unflappable Dick found himself clearing his throat and cutting his glance sideways under Henriksen's steely gaze and icy words.

"Yes, er . . . I think that's an acceptable plan. We'll go to Brady's room and pack his things now, as long as I'm here. Send his records to my business office, and we'll all put this unfortunate matter behind us."

Dick Roman nodded quickly at Henriksen, and then flicked his eyes at the Winchesters and Castiel.

"Good afternoon," he said stiffly, with the barest inclination of his head to Castiel and a small bow to the Winchesters. Grabbing Brady's arm, he hauled his dumbfounded son out of the office, letting the door slam behind them.

Dean, Sam, and Henriksen all exchanged quizzical looks, then burst out laughing. Castiel looked at them blankly, still lost in the speed of what had just happened as well as Sam's true identity.

"God, what an asshole!" Dean said. "Tell me, Henriksen, are many of the students like him? And the dad! What a blowhard!" He slapped Sam on the back. "Dude, you could've told me about the gay. Like I give a shit! My question is . . . are you happy?"

Sam smiled at Castiel, prompting Dean to look at him too. 

"Yeah, Dean, I'm happy. I was going to tell you -- during this visit, in fact -- just the Romans beat me to the punch."

Sam went to Castiel and hugged him. As Castiel felt those strong arms go around him, that warmth embracing him, he finally began to relax. He slipped his arms around Sam's waist and squeezed back. Sam nuzzled Castiel's hair, making the smaller man laugh.

Castiel pulled back from Sam's hug, feeling warm and reassured. Dean stepped over to him and said, "Hello, Castiel. I'm Dean Winchester, and I'm very pleased to meet you."

They shook hands solemnly. Then Dean cracked a big grin and said, "So -- where can we get some beers? And I'm starving for a good American burger! With cheese and bacon and -- oh! Fried onion rings!" He licked his lips and rubbed his stomach. "God, I love American food!" 

They all laughed heartily, the tension banished. Henriksen sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"You all go on and have a good time. I've got to push some papers around to get Brady Roman off this campus ASAP. Your Highness, good to meet you. Sam, mum's the word, and good luck. And Castiel . . ." He looked seriously at Castiel. Castiel felt a nervous tremor go through him, but then he took a deep breath and met Henriksen's eyes squarely. Henriksen smiled.

"There you are. Castiel, I'm terribly sorry for this nasty experience. Please . . . never be afraid to tell me -- or anyone -- something as important as that again. You were brave enough to withstand Brady's torment, so you're brave enough to report it. I understand being uneasy about the power of the Roman money, but I'm here for the students, not for payoffs from a shyster like Dick Roman. My only regret is that you had to deal with that unpleasantness for so long."

He gripped Castiel's arm with a firm hand. "You're a good student, Castiel, but even more importantly, you're a good person. Go on out with your boyfriend now and show his brother a good time, okay?"

He smiled and shook Castiel's hand. Castiel nodded dumbly and turned to Sam, who wrapped an arm around his shoulders. The contact seemed to break the daze Castiel was in, and a wide smile spread across his face. He turned back to Henriksen.

"Thank you, sir. Thank you so much. And -- I will!"

They all laughed, and then the Winchesters and Castiel turned to leave the Dean's office, heading out in search of beer and food.

"Hey, do you guys think the Dean's assistant would go out with us? She's hot!" Dean said, nudging Sam's arm. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Cas, this is my brother, the world's biggest ladies' man!" Castiel and Sam laughed as Dean huffed on out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

An hour later found Castiel sitting next to Sam in a booth at Rufus' Burger Ranch. Dean and Benny sat across from them, and all four had big, frosty mugs of beer in front of them. Plates with bacon cheeseburgers and baskets of fries arrived to enthusiastic acclaim, and talking ceased for several minutes while they addressed their food.

"Man! _That_ is what I'm talking about! You can't get this in Lawrencia, not like this." Dean's approval was followed by several noises of enjoyment that had the other three men exchanging amused looks.

"You're going to get us arrested for lewd behavior, Your Highness! I mean, 'Dean,'" Benny chortled. "People are gonna thinking you're having sex with that burger!"

Dean swigged some beer and burped loudly, wiping his mouth with a paper napkin. "Benny, they can think anything they want as long as I can eat like this while I'm here! Although, I wouldn't say no to meeting some hot co-eds after this . . ."

Sam and Castiel laughed.

"Cas, my brother is a notorious hound-dog, especially being so far from our father's eye at the moment! Dean, you take Benny and go hunting. Cas and I have some . . . business of our own to attend to. Right, Cas?"

Sam nuzzled behind Cas's ear, then kissed the tender skin there. Cas squeaked and his hand clenched on Sam's solid thigh. His pants were suddenly feeling rather . . . . tight. He turned, studying Sam's eyes -- always so startling with their mix of blue, green, and brown -- and then his mouth, curved in a smile as Sam looked back at him. A tingling sensation raced through his body, and suddenly he leaned forward, pressing his lips against Sam's ardently. Sam immediately kissed him back, cupping his face with one large hand and drawing him in close with the other.

Snickers and hoots from Benny and Dean made them stop, and they looked across the table with shiny eyes and moist, smiling lips. Cas found that he didn't even feel embarrassed by the PDA -- he just felt good. And, he suspected, pretty soon he was going to be feeling even better.

"Here, this should cover us," Sam said as he threw a couple of twenties on the table. "You two enjoy your food and go find a club. We'll catch up with you later."

He nudged Castiel out of the booth, standing up after him and steering him towards the door as they waved goodbye. Benny and Dean waved back and pretended to smooch each other before cracking up.

"Those two! They always start cutting up together. It's why Dad sent Benny with me instead of Dean. They'll have some fun, won't even miss us."

Sam walked briskly, and Cas had to trot a little to keep up. "Where -- where are we going?" he asked Sam with little huffs. Sam looked at him and promptly slowed down.

"Sorry, babe, I just got carried away there. I didn't meant to make you run." He kissed Cas briefly, but sweetly. "Where are we going? I thought, we could go to my apartment? It's right on the edge of the campus. I figured we'd have more privacy than in the dorms, right? And Cas . . ."

They stopped again, Sam looking at Castiel very seriously.

"For what I have in mind, Cas, privacy is very important. It's crucial." His eyes traveled down Castiel's body and returned to his face. " _Crucial._ "

Castiel shivered. He grabbed Sam's hand and began to run, pulling Sam after him.

"Come on, then! Let's go!"

They ran and laughed all the way back to Sam's apartment. Castiel felt giddy with relief from the dean's expulsion of Brady. On top of that was his mounting excitement about the possibility of imminent sex with Sam. He clutched Sam's hand tightly, making the other man smile fondly at him.

Arriving at Sam's apartment building, they kissed in the elevator as it rose to Sam's floor. They stumbled out, still half-kissing, and Sam maneuvered them to the door. It was difficult to unlock the door when their lips were attached, but Sam managed it and they fell into the apartment. Coats and shoes were flung off as they tripped to the bedroom.

"Sorry about the mess," Sam mumbled.

Castiel scoffed. Some dirty laundry laying around was the least of his concerns. Getting Sam's clothes off was a much higher priority.

"Hey -" Sam said, grabbing Castiel's busy hands. "Hey, hang on a sec. I just - Cas, I don't go around sleeping with any hot guy I meet. I can't, you know? I just want to tell you how much you mean to me. You're my angel, Cas, and I've fallen in love with you." His eyes darted between Castiel's blue ones, searching his face.

Castiel put his hand on Sam's cheek. "I know. I'm in love with you, too. Sam, you make me feel brave and special and . . . it's like my heart has wings." He smiled. "Thanks for almost hitting me with the Frisbee that day!"

They kissed again, tongues exploring and hands gliding over their now-naked chests. Cas thought he was harder than he'd ever been in his life, as he squirmed in discomfort in his pants. Suddenly, Sam's fingers were at his fly, popping the button and easing down the zipper. Castiel caught his breath in excitement and a little nervousness. No one had ever touched his dick before.

Sam paused. "Baby, am I going too fast?"

Castiel shook his head. "It's just - it's all new. I don't know - I don't know anything." His eyes were pleading, as he mentally urged Sam to continue, to teach him.

"It's okay, sweetheart. We'll go as fast as you want and as slow as you need, okay? Promise I'll take care of you, and we'll get there just fine. You're so gorgeous, Cas, and you don't even know it." Sam kissed his eyelids and them his mouth, pressing their lips together before trailing down Castiel's chest. Sam finished opening the zipper, and Castiel moaned as Sam's long fingers curled around his cock, his touch electrifying on Castiel's skin.

The spark of that touch galvanized Castiel, who managed to unzip Sam's fly despite his brain melting under the incredible sensation of Sam's hand moving on his cock. Sam's dick, likewise already hard, emerged readily with just a little guidance from Castiel's hand. _Jesus_ , he thought drunkenly, _is everybody's cock this big, or is it just Sam?_ Then he stopped thinking at all as they stroked each other, hands interlaced, bodies pressed tightly together, moans and soft cries mingling as they kissed. Castiel's body arched as he came against Sam, coating their hands with a cry, with Sam following seconds later, his own deep groan heralding his release.

They lay still entwined on the bed, heedless of mess, simply floating in a cloud of pleasure and love. Castiel nuzzled against Sam's chest, provoking a rumble of a chuckle from him.

"Sleep a bit, baby. We have all the time in the world." Sam kissed his head. "Love you."

Castiel sighed in complete happiness. "Love you too."


End file.
